Mind of a Psychopath
by Ianpiersonjdavis
Summary: Albert Wesker's dark and disturbing mysterious past is shockingly revealed in the evil mastermind, including his path to darkness! Character and RE belong to Capcom R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Mind of a Psychopath

Chapter 1: Prologue

As Albert Wesker sat comfortably in his chair in the dark room of a science lab, awaiting Ada's return with the Las Plagas sample, he was wearind a trench coat with his ever present sunglasses sipping on his favorite wine, reflecting on his life from childhood.

"Alby!" shouted a teenager about thirteen just as he was, it was his friend and classmate John Hart he had dark hair and freckles on his face which had gotten him attacked by other students more than once, he was at Charles Irwing's Prep school his parents had wanted the best for him but the truth was he hated the school-especially the extremely uncomfortable uniforms they were forced to wear.

It was a white uniform with the logo a red and white umbrella that was in an octagonal shape, he recently decided to have his hair slicked back, unfortunately when he decided this he didn't realise he would be sent to a boys only school, he was angry about this and the fact that he doesn't get bullyed or appreciated just ignored, he especially hated being called by his nickname 'Alby' he punched John in the stomach as hard as he could, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to stumble to the ground.

"I told you to never call me that!" Wesker shouted angrily, John got up and said "You know Wes, if I didn't need you're help with school work we wouldn't be friends anymore!"

Wesker took out a folded up magazine in his pocket, unfolded it, and showed the cover to John the title clearly read Playboy with a nude woman on it.

Before folding it back up and putting it back in his pocket, John asked "Where did you get that? You can't have that on school property-it's not allowed! You'll be expelled!"

Wesker snorted and muttered "Getting out of this shithole would be a god send! Besides, it ain't mine-I found it on the floor of the doorm next to Ryan's bed-we could hold this over his head and he and his two friends can nnever do anything to us again! We don't have to be losers anymore if we hang out with them!"

"Wes!" shouted John "Pretending to like or hang out with someone doesn't make them you're friend! Either you are or you aren't!" he paused for a while "I'm going to tell Mr. Pewaltzki!" he started to storm off before Wesker shouted I'm afraid I can't let you do that!"

Right on cue Ryan and his lackeys jumped out from behind the big willow tree blocking John's path, he turned to Wesker and said "You told them?"

He began to walk off until Wesker jumped on him screaming, his fists flailing, into John's face there was a loud crack that was audible throughout the entire courtyard, his nose was broken, along with a capillary in his right eye, his face drenched in blood.

He was crying his face was covered in tears, blood, and mucus and he shouted as he walked toward the gate exit "Do you really want to be one of them so badly, Wes? Well that's fine you can just-" he never finished his sentence out of nowhere came a green pick up running John over, splattering blood, the rear left wheel dragging his body twenty miles before stopping he was dead and it was all Wesker's fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Mind of a Psychopath

Chapter 2: Aftermath

The principle called the police and paramedics who were on the scene within minutes.  
The driver was female, a brunnette wearing bell bottom jeans with sandals and a maroon sweater, her hands were cupped over her mouth and she screamed at the sight of the splattered remains of the dead child the was dragged across the road and over her truck.  
It was a Ford pick-up-The police questioned her as she sobbed uncontrolably "H-he just came out of nowhere!" she sniffed "I tried stopping-but the moment my foot hit the breaks it was too late! And...and...Oh God! What have I done!?" she sobbed even harder.  
One of the cops wearing a Racoon City Police Department uniform, began walking up to Wesker-he had a red hair with a mustache, his eyes blue-Wesker couldn't help but look into them with curiosity, part of him thought that if he looked into the cops eyes he could see what he was thinking,  
the other part of him thought that this would make whatever he said believable.  
The cop towered over Wesker by at least two feet, he kneeled down so he was at eye level with one of the suspects and said "Son, My name Sheriff Don Mulgon, did you see what happened here"  
"I did." replied Wesker calmly, his heart was racing he had never seen anyone get killed in real life before, but he focused all of his energy on his lip not quivering-remaining calm was always key in these types of situations.  
"What? Tell me." Wesker could see by the way the cop was glaring at him part of him knew or a least, suspected Wesker.  
Wesker spoke, choosing his words carefully, "He threatened to kill himself...he said that he would if he couldn't be our friend, we didn't believe him but-" Wesker lowered his head pretending to feel upset by John's grotesque passing-if he was a film actor in a movie.  
The cop moved on to question the othrers who decided to be consistent with Wesker for fear of being sent to juvenile hall and the fear of Wesker's parents who were rich and not necesarily the kindest of people.  
A kid who was fourteen, and a bully who all of the girls drooled over when they saw him on campus-earlier he had stated that if he ever saw John again, he was dead.  
He would live to regret those words as soon as students heard of John's death they accused him-his name was Aron Dale, he would spend four years in juvenile hall before being released on good behavior.  
Sheriff Mulgon headed back to his cruiser with his deputy cuffing Aron, while reading him his rights.  
While he was pushed into the back of the cruiser Sheriff Mulgon's deputy sat in the passenger seat he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the stress he was feeling, what was this world coming to when children killed and were killed?  
He had a gut feeling that he would need to keep on eye on that Wesker kid, something about him gave Mulgon the creeps, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there wasn't something quite right with him. Even if Wesker was caught doing something or evidence was brought up against him, his parents had deep pockets do dig him out of trouble-but money couldn't save them forever.  
If only he knew...Wesker had more than money on his side, strong ties to powerful people, his intilligence, and his persistence which had the possibility to shake the foundation of the entire world... 


	3. Chapter 3

Mind of a Psychopath

Chapter 3: Birkin

Years had passed, as Wesker graduated from medical school at the top of his class. Some time in 1977, a series of events would eventually lead the Umbrella Corporation to its inevitable downfall. Wesker now had a degree in viralogy, however, since he could not find a proffesion he felt 'comfortable' which is why he joined the Raccoon City Police Department, until he found something that had interested him. He had waited for a long time to do something that would look good on his resume'. And he had gotten his chance after he was told to investigate some strange occurences from a few tipsters working on the inside of the Umbrella Corporation.  
This was probably a crazed consipiracy therarist, which is what he was known for in the station.  
Chief Irons had then exasperatedly, told Wesker to just check ou Umbrella undercover to humor the 'nut' as he called the officer in question.  
Wesker walked into a department store a few blocks down made with stereotypical red bricks and a cheesy sign that read in cursive letters 'Jim's Depo'. Wesker hated these kinds of stores, in his opinnion they might as well walk up to one of those communists he had been hearing so much about on the news lately, bend over, and say, "Hey, kick my ass"  
He walked around looking for something to hide his identity in case someone from Umbrella had recognised him, he saw a shelf full of snacks, and a freezer full of milk, soft drinks, and various other enery drinks, he found a rack filled from top to bottom with various sunglasses with different colors, shapes, and sizes.  
There was a sleek pair of black sunglasses that caught his eye-he didn't want to get ones with star-shaped lenses, or bright, sparkling colors-if he stood out, it would completely defeat the purpose of going undercover.  
As he slowly lifted the sunglasses up to the light he looked into a mirror on the side of the display rack for customers to check their appearances in, his eyes were completely shielded, so no one would see his dim, green eyes he took them off, folded them and carefully placed them on the counter, "Is that all?" the cashier asked, folding his Playboy "Yes." Wesker replied inhumanly.  
Jim looked bored but eyed Wesker suspiciously as he scanned the pair of sunglasses, they were easily breakable, and extremely cheap-he thought Wesker was a thief or going to start a hold-up since he didn't know that Wesker was part of the Raccoon City Police force, the machine calculated the price with tax as Wesker had spotted the electronic numbers display: 6.66 as he reached into his wallet and took out a ten, handing it to the cachier and walked out "Keep the change." he muttered.  
He walked back out onto the streets of the city and headed toward one of Umbrella's offices where they did 'research' and came up with ideas for products such a cosmetics, and anti-biotics as well as advertisements-Wesker believed that driving short distances was for the lazy, and stupid for wasting both gas and money for what could be a short walk of excercise he mused this to himself about this being one of the reasons Americans were so overweight nowadays.  
As he had finally made his way to the building, he realized he nearly walked past the office if the official logo of Umbrella didn't catch his eye on time. When he opened the door he could vaguely see the outline of a female secretary filing her nails, since his eyes still hadn't fully adjusted to the glasses. She was a brunette wearing a red dress, with red finger-nail polish, and put the nail-file down when she heard Wesker enter and said "Oh, I'm sorry sir-we don't allow sunglasses in the building-unless of course you can prove that you're blind"  
Wesker hesitantly obliged "Do you know where I can find Sergei Vladimir?" he asked emotionlessly while glancing down at the nametag pinned to the right of her chest and added "Sheryl"  
She looked shocked as he had known her name "How-?" she was about to ask before Wesker cut her off "Your name-tag." Sheryl nodded in understanding and informed him "Mr. Vladimir is on the third floor." she said his name with a hint of disgust and glanced at him adding "Why would anyone want to see him, expecially someone as cute as you?" this took Wesker off gaurd and he muttered thanks taking off before she could see his cheeks turn red he didn't want anyone to see him like this so he took the elevator he was ashamed feeling like he had committed some kind of crime, like not looking and acting proffesional was a crime. As the number three lit up bright red on the panel, he walked out into the hall of the building which had a grey carpet, and black white walls, that had smelled like gun powder, he found a golden plaque on the mahogony door with words engraved on it reading: Room 305 Umbrella Executive Sergei Vladimir.  
He slowly opened the door with his heart pounding, fearful thoughts racing through his head, worrying about screwing up his first 'important' mission he spotted a man with long grey hair, and scars over the side of his face, forcing his left eye shut, he was wearing a dark blue trench coat with red cuffs, and an Umbrella insignia pinned to his chest, he was cleaning an old fashioned pistol with a cloth and spoke with a russian accent "It's about time you have arrived, comrade." Although confused Wesker took a Revolver from his holster and aimed at Sergei who merely smiled.  
Wesker heard a few guns cock behind him and turned to see other officers aiming at him "What's this?" snapped Wesker Sergei chuckled and replied "Here in Raccoon City we pay Chief Irons to look the other way from our 'operations'. He also sends notice if he knows a good agent that can be of use to Umbrella." Wesker grunted "So this whole story was a cover up, and if I refuse?" he asked calmly.  
Sergei chuckled and replied "Then you will die, comrade-a waste if you ask my opinnion." Wesker could tell he was out-gunned and decided to humor this psycho "Fine." he stated simply, but firmly enought to make his anger clear.  
A man walked in wearing a white lab coat, with black shoes, brown hair, and a red tie had walked in, there was mustache growing over his upper lip, although it wasn't grown in yet, the man or rather, the boy looked like he was about in his md teens and smirked at Wesker. "This is your new research assistant." replied Sergei "His name is William Birkin." 


	4. Chapter 4

Mind of a Psychopath

Chapter 4: The Umbrella Corporation

Wesker looked the boy over a little and asked Sergei "This is a joke, right?" Sergei merely shook his head and replied "I do not make jokes-this boy is one of Umbrella's top virologists"  
After getting over this shocking revealation he turned to Birkin, and asked "Boy, how old were you when you first came to Umbrella"  
He was silent for a while before replying "Fifteen." before looking at the ground and shuffling his feet anxiously. Wesker turned back to face Sergei and said "I don't appreciate being black mailed-especially by corporal puppets..." he paused a bit to let that sink in before continuing. "Who are you, Sergei? I can tell by your accent and by the type of pistol your polishing, that you are of Russian descent, but other than that..." his voice trailed off.  
Sergei merely chuckled and replied "I am always proud to display information about myself to inferior employees." he stopped when he saw the enraged expression on Wesker's face and chuckled, "I was born and raised in Russia, where I later became a colonel in the Cold War, after which I was unfortunately defected from the militia." Birkin backed up a bit when he heard this.  
Wesker turned to him and shouted "Where are you going!?" Birkin stopped cold in his tracks, "Didn't you hear that guy? He's a commie! He could kill us!" Wesker's expression grew stern as he glanced back at Sergei and replied "He could, but hasn't." Birkin decided that was a risk he wasn't willing to take and ran out into the hall at full speed as Wesker muttered "Coward"  
Sergei chuckled again and said "Don't worry about it, comrade. I am used to these reactions." he signalled for the cops in the office to leave as he pulled out a chair for Wesker to sit in and continued his story.  
"I had nowhere to go after the war." he continued "My country fell from its former pride and joy-I was alone until Spencer gave me a home here at Umbrella, that is how I became one of the companies executives." Wesker shifted in his chair and and asked "Even with your former ranking as a communist?" Sergei smiled as best he could as the scars twisted, and contorted on the left side of his face making him look slightly uglier. "Many of Umbrella's employees had their doubts about me, but that all changed after Spencer allowed me to prove my loyalty to both him and Umbrella-I did this by offering myself as a test subject for Umbrella since my body had the unique genetic structure for their 'Tyrant' project"  
"And you did have second thoughts!?" asked Wesker incrediously. Sergei had merely grinned. "Umbrella had given me a purpose, so I felt indebted to them-I would have given them my very life, if they asked for it." Wesker was silent for a while before pulling out his concealed magnum revolver from his vest and fired repeatedly at Sergei, the tip of the gun was still smoking when Wesker saw three bullet holes in Sergei's right shoulder, with blood dripping down his uniform he didn't even look dazed, let alone hurt, in fact-he was smiling.  
Sergei looked from his wounded shoulder to Wesker. "Not bad, comrade." he stated before getting out of his chair and grabbing Wesker by the throat, dragging him across the floor of his office as he repeatedly fired at Sergei with the remaining bullets in the revolver, even when the shots had hit their mark it made no difference as Sergei didn't even seem to feel the pain, he slammed Wesker against the wall, slowly lifting him to the ceiling smiling insanely.  
"What the hell are...you!?" Wesker choked as best he could the the gargantuan fist increasingly tightening around his throat. "Remember when I told you that I let Umbrella test me for their experiments?" asked Sergei, before dropping Wesker to the floor. "I was one of the first subjects to be a success in Umbrella's Tyrant program." Wesker got to his knees and massaged the flesh on his throat feeling the soreness of his adam's apple he continued piecing together the puzzle that Sergei had laid out for him.  
"So you are allowed to preform illegal experimentation under the radar, and when things get sticky Umbrella just uses their deep pockets, and strong ties to win over any local geovernment." he finished up the summary of what he had learned. "Clever." he complimented.  
Sergei nodded approvingly and added "The experimental virus they injected me with was known as the 'Progenerator Virus' which they would later call the 'T-Virus'." Wesker got to his feet and asked "So 'T' stands for?" "Tyrant." replied Sergei "We need your abillities and connections with the Raccoon City Police Department to help us." "And what," asked Wesker "Exactly would that be?" Sergei took the cloth that he polished his pistol this from off the floor and wiped the fresh blood off of his uniform. "I don't blame you for your reaction, comrade. Yet, this is still a uniform I take much pride in-it would be a shame if it had blood stains..." after he finished wiping the smeared blood from his shoulder he tossed the cloth in a lime green trash bin in the left corner of the room opposite of Wesker. "Umbrella needs a specialized task force to test our new bio-weapon on,  
Since the R.P.D. has no chance against them for being only beat cops. We need a more elite task force"  
Wesker smiled and said "I have an idea or two..." he shook Sergei's hand and headed out the door before pausing, "And Sergei my name is Albert Wesker, not comrade-and we will NEVER be friends." he smiled politely but there was something threatening hidden underneath it as he got back into the elevator he thought over everything that had just happened, wondering how many other cops were puppets of Umbrella. He had a few millitary acquaintances that could be of use in creating this elite squadron-the thought of being manipulated had sickened him yet,  
He saw a potential advantage in destroying the company from the inside out. Who would ever expect a dedicated employee that was as loyal as lap dog?  
Wesker noticed the secretary Sheryl and decided to talk to her "It's about time for lunch. Shouldn't you be on your break?" She stopped filing her nails and glanced up at him "I prefer not to get fat, thanks." she muttered sarcastically and continued filing down her nails. "Most women don't understand that nutrition is essential-even when they're skinny as a rail and lying in the hospital bed on life-support." he replied coolly. She glared up at him and snarled "You walk in here, get your ass handed to you, and now you give ME life advice!? You have some nerve!" "Do you want to go out on Saturday?" he asked. She was shocked and infuriated at the same time at a loss for words "I-You! How can-What time?" 


End file.
